gunsforhire | LOG: The family that drinks together

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LOG: The family that drinks together

Who: Agent Texas, Omega Ai
What: Sibling bonding and alcohol
Where: The Eagle and Asp
When: Monday night (backdated)
Warnings: Alcohol

Omega gets to the bar before Tex, and he saves her a seat again. He orders himself a scotch, and for her the tequila she was drinking last time.

And then he waits his turn for her attention.

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"Made to forget or he'd be looking," she answers. If they did that to her, she has no doubt they did that to Alpha. "We might want to at least peek at a larger house for you all. If you wanted."

That's the answer Omega needs to hear. "You mean move? From the house we've lived in all our lives? Be somewhere else, away from the closet Sigma got locked in and the patches where I punched holes and the corner Delta leaned against when it finally sunk in that Alpha was never coming home?"

Omega would love to do that, take his brothers and Eta to live anywhere else. "There's ... any house big enough for us would be expensive, and I doubt Delta or I qualify for a mortgage. The littles might have to switch schools, for all I know our parents would cut us off. Look, it's not that I wouldn't want to. I don't know that there would even be problems, Delta does all the money."

Don't the mercenaries all have safehouses? How long will it take Omega to be able to afford one of his own? A safe place for his family. Why he's doing this at all. "So I suppose the answer is, as long as Delta comes along."

"The parents that send mysterious checks to you? How do you even know that's not actually the Counselor and whatever assholes he works with?" she asks flatly. How was that not even a possibility in their heads.

"I'm not going to stress Delta out with the money part of that idea, but... I'm going to start looking. Even if it had a bedroom or two more or rooms that could be used as bedrooms, it'd be nicer. Give you guys some space and get you out of that hellhole of bad memories."

"Oh, it probably is, but they leave us alone and the checks are good," Omega says. "That's a good plan. And if I'm staying at base sometimes, that should help."

"When you can, cut off using the checks. They might be tracking where they go or where they get cashed to keep better tabs on you." Paranoid, maybe. But it's kept her alive this long.

"We're planning on it, but right now..." Omega shrugs. "Food's expensive. Helmets are expensive. Kids are expensive."

"Life is expensive. That's why I'm trying to help. I've only been paying for myself for years." And they've had so many others. It's time they had help that wasn't from a random check.

"I know, I know. But that's why we take the money." Omega taps his fingers on the bar. "That, and if we don't keep them happy, well. Price told me, almost the last thing he said to me, was that they'd take the kids away before my next birthdat."

"A good reason for why I want to find him. And wring his fucking neck." It's a damn lovely mental image to have and her hands itch for that day. "We'll get you up in the ranks so you don't need to rely on his bullshit charity."

"Good. I'll help. With both. I'll do more than be a medic if it pays." Omega's been quiet about his willingness to branch out for Delta's sake, but that can't last forever.

"You don't need to work the street corners." The joke is flat and she sighs as she pushes her empty shot glass away from her. "How much are you willing to do in this business?"

"I can't do that. My tiny shorts magically disappeared," Omega reminds her. "I'll blow up a building for a dozen donuts and lose no sleep over who might be inside or how many people I've just put out of work. Whatever it takes to keep my family safe, nothing that would follow me home to them."

"What about shooting them? Doing explosions, that's impersonal. How do you feel about taking a life and seeing their face as they go down?" she asks bluntly. How far is he willing to go for this?

"Won't know until I try it," Omega says. "But they'll be trying to kill me right back. Like the people who were shooting at us before. Not exactly innocents. And I know I can hurt people."

It shouldn't be much different than making an example of the first kid to try to mess with one of his brothers.

"You can, but do you want to?" she asks, one final time to make sure. "If you do... Well. We can run through some extra training together to make sure you're prepared."

"What I want is to take care of my family," Omega says. "Whatever that ends up meaning."

"That's the thing, it doesn't have to mean this. Your choice. My hands are already dirty." Doesn't mean his need to be too.

"Are you trying to talk me out of it?" Didn't she want him to be like her? Omega wants to be like her.

"I want you to make a choice. I didn't get to make it, but you can." Yes or no. It's all he has to say.

If she didn't get to make that choice, is Omega supposed to stick to demolitions and medicine, like how Sigma and Epsilon are supposed to stay school and get jobs they actually like? Or is Omega supposed to do what she does, be more like her?

That's what's most important. To make her proud, like it's important to make Alpha proud.

"Already chose," Omega says. "That building wasn't empty. And at the least, if I show up to stop someone from bleeding out on the floor, I doubt whoever shot them is going to stop and verify my feelings on the matter."

She nods. If that's what he wants to do then she will help him.

"I'll buy you your first gun then. Once you've tried out a few and settle on a preference. You can keep it locked up in your room on base so it doesn't have to go home."

"I don't think I'd want one around the kids. They can't get at it if it's not in the house." Omega doesn't know what sort of gun he'd like beyond "small." Or some sort of bomb-thrower, but that could get awkward to carry around.

"That's fine. What have you been doing in your firearms training with Maine?" she asks. She's seen some of their work together, but Maine's taken point on Omega's training.

"Everything, almost," Omega says. He doesn't try the bruteshot. "I'm better with the small ones, though, that might just be a matter of practicing."

"It takes some practice," she says. "I'll help you figure out how to handle a rifle."

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